Maes sets herself back on the toilet, uncoiling her tail and opening her legs for the proxy.

...there's a small tendril there, and a non-insignificant amount of slime dripping off of it.

There's no words needed, the proxy leaning in close and giving her a test lick.


Maes tries not to jump, still completely unused to this.

Kettle immediately pauses.

Maes has to take a moment to gather herself before giving the proxy a thumbs up.

Kettle chirps excitedly, getting to work and luring the tendril out further with her mouth.

Maes hesitates for a moment before reaching down to grip the back of Kettle's head, allowing her enough length to assure it's not all that small on the inside.

[image description: Maes sitting on the toilet, slit grin and drool on her lip as she recieves oral stimulation from Kettle. One hand is on knee while the other pushes Kettle's head down, little cartoon hearts resembling Judgment's family crest above the proxy's head. Maes wears nothing but a sports bra, part of her face covered by a mess of hair.] 

A muffled noise from the proxy, Kettle too busy trying to swallow more up to bother communicating anything intelligible.

Maes dares giving a tiny thrust, enough to fill Kettle's mouth with slime and threatening to push deeper.

This is all the encouragement the proxy needs, Kettle moving along as best she could with the massive claws pressed against the back of her head.

Maes can't help but choke on her own words, clearly having gotten herself close beforehand even with the difficulty.

Kettle lets out a mischevious snicker before managing to coil her tongue around the tendril in her mouth, squeezing it tight before taking it greedily into her throat.

A hard thrust now, the sound of Kettle nearly choking on it audible even across the apartment.




Charon fumbles, spilling a little bit of milk while pouring it- a desperate attempt to make breakfast as he tries to avoid the sensory bleed.






And another, Maes a lot less shy now.







Charon's breath catches, having to clench his jaws to keep from making his own noise.

Don't say a thing, let them have fun-

He closes his eyes and thinks calming, breakfast-like thoughts as the sound and sensation of what can only be his proxy excitedly deepthroating his boss threaten to distract him from finishing his goddamn scrambled eggs.









Maes' claws dig into the back of Kettle's head, sending slime gushing down her throat and not letting go.

Kettle stayed locked in place, seemingly unbothered by the roughness involved...a benefit of being artificial, and determined at that.

Maes' hips tremble as she finishes, really letting the proxy have every last drop before flopping backwards, releasing her grip.

Kettle lets go as well, helping guide the tendril back inside her partner- a little bit of courtesy punctuated with a gentle pat.

Both of them winded, Kettle slumps against her boss's leg- really making it apparent just how much Maes had worked her over. Far more full than she would have expected, the proxy smiles as the last remainders of slime ooze between her jagged teeth.

The cat lazily rubs behind one of the proxy's ears, making a soft, soothing hum.

Kettle nuzzles her hand, rumbling contentedly.

But of course.

The proxy's the calmest she's heard yet.

A sound of confirmation.

Mm... 

A little nod against her leg.

Kettle gives her knee a pat, the karacel returning it with another ear rub.

She lets out one last long sigh.

A loud squeak. 

Horny dream.

She takes a few wobbly steps, pulling up Kettle for support and allowing the proxy to help her get her underwear back on.


As soon as Maes is dressed, Kettle clambers up into her arms, desperate to be hugged and surprisingly light.

The proxy gives her a silly, harmless "bite" on the arm.

Maes smiles, poking Kettle on the nose as she takes both of them out.

Maes grows flushed, shaking her head and coughing nervously.

She gives the proxy a little nuzzle.

She takes a seat-

-allowing Kettle to remain on her lap.

The proxy positions carefully, close but not in the way of the table.



[Image Description: Charon staring off with a conflicted neutral expression as Kettle wrapped up around Maes and sitting on her lap teases him. THe proxy has her tongue poking out at him. On the table is a large lump of scrambled eggs that could feed a family.]

 
Maes can't help but rub her shoulder, almost stimming on it.

Charon wraps up and settles in himself.

[image description: Maes with a standardized lab spork in her mouth and a slight pleased looking expression, Kettle still coiled around her left side.]

Maes noticeably gives Kettle a squeeze before turning to her food.

She picks up her silverware and takes a bite-

-unsure what to make of the texture at first.

Another bite.

He places down a boiled egg carefully on her plate.

She pokes it first with a fork, and then her claws.

She jumps as her claw pierced it, only to get back to poking with intensified curiosity.

She spears the egg on one claw, giving it a little squeeze before popping it into her mouth all at once, clearly looking for ways to not elaborate.

She shakes her head.

He slides another one onto her plate.

She very pointedly lets him see the chomp this time, the egg eviscerated into shreds within a second.

The dog nearly makes a noise, only stopped by Kettle beating him to the punch.

A snakey hiss from the ghost.

And another.

The proxy gives a little clap at that.

A soft smile.

A gentle little nuzzle from the proxy.

She turns back to the rest of her meal, trying the hash next.

She digs in properly now, all of the sampling done with. Watching her enjoy the food with more vigor and less hesitation is quite a sight, the karacel not bothering to look as graceful or poised.

She takes a few moments to finish, clearly still savoring by her ravenous standards.

Her voice grows...somber.

A tinge of blush.

She continues on, not seeming to realize her slip...or Charon's flustering.

Her brow furrows, setting her silverware down.

A noise of acknowledgement.

Synna squints at the pair in front of her, Maes doing her best to look casual.

[image description: maes and charon standing tensely in front of synna, hands on her hips and clearly judging them for their overnight crimes. synna is dressed in a pitch black skintight suit, with maes wearing her hazmat getup sans helmet.]

eyes dart to Maes-

-and then back to him.

She relaxes, letting out an amused huff.

She averts eye contact, suddenly looking more anxious.

Maes' tail thumps against the ground nervously, Charon clearing his throat.

' tail thumping grows louder, the karacel visibly on edge.

Her ears flatten.

He made a square gesture with his hands, static noise and lines visible for just a brief moment.

The dog's soft and flowy attire isn't exactly the most convincing.

squeezes her eyes shut and nods.

The dog paused for a moment.

The sense of dread in the main hall is palpable, Rosetta, Jester and Ruby geared up in horror-proof suits matching Maes' own- 

-Smith shooing away curious residents, and JB going over a lockdown checklist.

The construct taps his clipboard.

JB sighs.

JB nods.

Synna clears her throat.

The dog reaches into his cloak and pulls out some dust, a spark within his palm, burning through it like a sweet flowery incense. Taking a whiff gave almost a heightened sense of reality to those nearby.

Rosetta's tail immediately starts coughing, Maes equally confused.

Jester's eyes widen.

Synna taps her elbow, thinking.

He reaches into his pocket, a little mechanical bird in his palm.

Quiet as people thought, before Jester pipes up.

He hesitates.

He thumps his tail in conviction.

Maes moves to massages her temple, made ineffective by the suit helmet.

[image description: Jester in a full body hazard suit similar to Maes, albeit proportioned toward his larger body. His helmet is on, little glance of his eye facing the viewer visible through the mask. He holds a ziplock bag full of cookies.]

Jester's already pulling out a plastic zip bag, Maes scrunching her eyes shut at the sound.

Rosetta says nothing.

[image description: Maes in full suit and helmet trails behind Charon's animatronic bird as it searches through for paranormal activity.]

Charon deploys the bird before the group gets moving, its mechanical flutters quick as it flaps ahead of everyone.

The hallways through the Stasis section are the same as ever, the mood feeling far more dour than the cleanup efforts in the cells. Maes can't help but have a nasty grimace.

The dog's loud steps and clattering tail kept things from getting too quiet, Charon more than raring to go.

Maes swallows.

Rosetta's voice is dull, hollow.

Maes sighs.

Rosetta's tail thumps.

Jester wrung his hands.

He tapped it, tucked away in his cloak.

Before he could finish, the light bristle of Mar's dress filled the room.

Maes' tone softens.

The proxy audibly shuffled.

Jester sucked in air.

The dog poke around through his pockets.

Rosetta puts it plainly.

Jester's voice is soft.

[image description: Various decaying structures and pieces of machinery from the slaughterhouse lingering in the dark. Pipes, concrete, massive hooks and railings with the occasional loose cable make up the area ahead.]

There's a metallic chirp from the bird.

The group proceeds, the massive doors labeled INTAKE looming ahead.

Jester's voice is quiet.

Maes unsheathes her sword, taking a moment to swap out her cane.

Rosetta puts her own cane away, strapping it to her side and allowing her tail to sweep
the area, almost in a sniffing motion. 

The knight positions his hand on his flashlight, Mar taking lead as if she's' a walking shield.

Maes and Jester push the doors, having to use their shoulders to brace against it.

Jester's not kidding about the smell, the scent of long-since rotted corpses hitting the group all at once- Charon taking the full, unsuited brunt. 

The dog coils the coat around himself, trying to protect himself from the stench.

Rosetta sounds more irritated than concerned.

Jester huffs.

Jester and Maes head inside, Maes notably tensing more than the other.

Charon feels...watched.

The dog's fur stands up.

Maes tenses further.

Indiscernible energy echoes through the slaughterhouse, its position and intent unknown to Charon- but Jester's grimace is visible through his suit's visor.

The dog remains quiet, Mar's tiled dress beginning to rattle.

Jester swallows.

The dog widens his stance.

Jester takes a step forward, trying to keep his stance even as he raises his voice.

Scrambling to pull out his  bag of cookies.

Synna sighs.

Maes' tail tip lashes.

The knight relaxes his posture.

Jester seems a little less hesitant, now.

Maes sighs.

Jester can't help but make a soft noise of endearment, Synna pausing.

Maes tugs on Jester, heading to the right.

The titan floor was identifiable immediately, massive metal machine frames making up a distressingly large slaughterhouse assembly line- and a single colossal cage, long since emptied.

The ground is stained with dark smears, far too much viscera having touched them to ever really be cleaned. 

The dog took point, hood pulled up and cloak pulled around himself securely.

Synna's voice crackles through.

Jester makes a soft noise of worry.

Rosetta rumbles, halting in her tracks as her tail brushes against something.

The dog was quick to the draw, flash light out.

A mess of old bones, heaped into a pile, the flesh picked clean- layers and layers of bite marks rendering their actual source unidentifiable.

The dog immediately makes his way over.

Jester mumbles into comms, skeptical.

Maes makes a displeased noise.

Maes' voice hitches, suddenly cut off.

Her voice is a harsh whisper.

Jester sounds like he's shivering.

A slight chill settles into Mar's spine, feeling it before Charon.

Rosetta does her best to hunch down, immediately self conscious about her massive silhouette.

[alt: a curvy figure stands unnaturally, its posture stiff- yet entire lifeless. it appears canine, made of patchwork materials not meant to be put together. it is clothed, just barely discernible in a flashlight's beam.]
 

The dog flashes a light on scarecrow-like structure wearing a stained uniform.

Synna groans.

Rosetta hisses, immediately on edge.

Rosetta's rumbles deepen, Maes whispering into her comms.

He examines it closer, squinting as he tries to get a good look in the dark.

Synna cusses under her breath.

He does a sharp intake of breath.

The dog turns, spotting an off-looking shine in the dark.

[alt: a pair of scarily bright cat eyes in the dark on one side and the other, charon's signature no-entry pupils.]


Two mirror-like eyes stare right back at him, jumping back.

Jester wasn't wrong.

Strange smears and clusters of bone litter the area, heaps in varying shapes and sizes-

-but not the only kind of marker.

More twisted humanoid figures, all carrying shock sticks...in different poses, all wearing different uniforms from the surface.

Maes exhales.

The dog approached a mass and started going through it.


Immediate rumbling in the chamber, its position unknown-

The dog pulled away.

The vibrations did not stop, the sound beginning to move-

and then ceasing again.

He pressed his hands to it.

The noise slowed, calming.

There was a clang, the dog backhanding it.

The noise stopped-

-only to be replaced with a strange, multi-layered-

[alt: Mar looms over a flesh scarecrow shaped like a ruffneck with a intimidating aura, from offscreen Charon's cloak sleeved arm extends and jabs it so hard little cartoon stars fly off like spit and blood spraying in a comedic way.]

The dog mockingly postured toward the figure, chest out and on his toes for added height.

More cackles, in different volumes and cadences, as if many voices got scrambled together.

A shuffling in the dark, the cold feeling intensifying.

The knight suddenly cuts off, eyes and halo bright enough to make him out. The proxy rattles along, both gone quiet.

The floor wet and warm, blistering winds indoors heading toward Maes' direction.




The proxy starts to spasm mechanically.







The karacel reels back, letting out a snarl as she readies her sword-

[Image Description: A hyper-stylized silhouette of Charon leaping with sword in hand at the mysterious creature, the background adorned with stars on a reddish background.]


Immediately a loud clash, the impact sparking light just enough to see just a glimpse of the action.


[Image Description: Charon makes a attempt to use his sword to fend off the creature, a living embodiment of space and void contrasting with the similarly colored star pattern of his cape. The point where the sword blocks the beast has a cutoff from the borders of the comic itself, magic of the void manifested in breaking and rearranging the medium of illustration and comics themselves to be used as a tool by the canine knight]


A large writhing mass of loose humanoid shapes poorly clinging to make a larger figure.




As Charon is thrown back, his proxy tags in- guarding against the attacker's weight what isn't quite Mar, hissing hymns- its presence too angry and threatening to be her.





The dog shifts to the opposite side to protect the others, audibly growling- light yet animalistic, with a electronic cackle.

Ice, ice cold feeling floods the room, enough to make Rosetta shudder and lose her grip, convulsing and covering her ears from some unheard sound.



The figure immediately thrashes, the new proxy diving in to grab and slam it down toward the opposite direction.










The noise, the shaking from both fighting- unearthly, unknowable-

The mass looks to Maes.





And lunges.







It does not reach its target.



A colossal thud, enough to shake the room, echoes as a massive wall of flesh wedges itself between Jester, Maes, and the fight, shielding the two of them-




[Image Description: A sequence of events depicted in 3 panels, frames collapsing to represent the blur of the moment. In the first panel Maes, wearing the hazard suit, is being stalked by a mysterious creature, tendrils creeping into frame past the usual comic borders. Second panel is a cut depicting the creature directly above and about to lunge at Maes, a mysterious figure rushing in to interrupt the attempt to bite off her head. Third panel, largest of all, depicts Maes reacting to the figure, a very large feline creature with multiple heads layered around each other, taking the impact of the piecing monster. There is a unspoken sense of familiarity between the two. ]


-Eight glowing lights materializing on its form, different shapes, colors and sizes-











...eyes.



Just like Jester's.



Jester acts fast, snatching up Maes and leaping back as her breath gets labored.




It feels like the moment lasts forever, everyone but Charon and his proxy shielded by the twisted shield of karacel parts.








Pounding, sounds of metal tearing into bone and flesh, proxy screaming and dog howling.






Jester whimpers and clutches at Maes, squeezing his eyes shut as the rawest and most basic of urges rocking the entire floor.

Maes is frozen.

Rose breathes heavily, her hands shaking as her tail writhes from the noise.











An impossibly high pitched noise breaks through.









And then silence, a light so bright it could have been a blinding sun blasting from the other side.



Jester looks up, squinting- the shadows coming off forms all he can see.


[Image Description: A injured Charon with cracked lens and lip dripping with blood looking back at the party as he seals them off from the fight with the creature. In front of him a large humanoid figure with flowing materials growing out of her is holding a large banner on a pole. She faces off against the beast, a ultimate form of proxy against a shadowy fiend not quite fully developed. The entire panel being slowly swallowed by tendrils and square framings, cracking under the strain of being assaulted.]


Cracked outlines in the surrounding area reveal glimpses of something not meant to be encounter, feelings of divine hate no person could fathom on their own.





A sense of body and soul barely being attached, living briefly among the stars beyond.




Jester cannot look away.








And then a return to darkness.










Proxy still rattling.




There came a sound that could only be the attacker slinking away, its pathetic, pained cries like a kid who's knee had been scraped.







And then it's all gone, proxy trembling and dog whimpering remaining as the last sounds of struggle.

Maes' voice is shaky, snapped out of her shock.

He keeps his grip tight on her, even when she thrashes.


The mismatched pupils turn towards the pair, a silhouette starting to become visible.

Not a wall, but a massive figure, more similar to an insect in body plan than the traditional bipeds found in Taverne-

...a twisted creature not unlike the one that attacked Charon, but both more and less identifiable in its features. A row of karacel heads devouring each other in a chain, forming a bizarre long neck tipped with a singular head. Its body reeks of decomposed flesh, its body and limbs made up of prehensile, matted tails- black sludge leaking from between the different colors of fur.

Each face seems to shift independently, but after a moment, it turns their attention to the trio in front of it.

It shuffles over, lowering its long neck to investigate.

A distorted, stretched calico face peers at Charon and then the proxy, eyes blue and wet looking.

The proxy sobs silently, while the knight's expression is completely lost.

The ghost lowers itself to the ground, its countless legs folding into a loaf-like shape.

It leans its cascading row of heads over to sniff him, and then bumps into the proxy with its main snout.











...It smells fucking horrible.

Maes' voice cracks, pounding at Jester's leg.

His breathing hitches, still frozen.

The dog is too tired to do more than cover his face with a sleeve, blocking out the stench of rot.






[id: The ghost, now fully revealed, sits in a loaf-like position- surprisingly kitty-like and sweet looking despite being made out of corpse chunks. It appears to comfort Charon's new proxy, nuzzling up. Its frontal head has wide, shiny wet eyes, and doesn't look like it fully understands what's going on.]





The proxy practically lunges for a hug, squeezing the mass of amalgamated karacel flesh.

A cascade of mewls, the creature fluffing up and half backing away, half clinging on back.

After a moment, the proxy backs off, visibly embarrassed and apologetic.

The dog finally breaks the silence.

Synna's voice goes shrill.

Jester finally lets Maes loose, only for her to trip on a stray tail- a rotting tendril stained with long-dried gristle.

The proxy dives in to help her up.

Maes latches onto the rook in a death grip, trying to catch her breath.

Jester's throat sounds dry, shaky on comms.

Maes freezes.

Rosetta's tail hacks and wheezes inside her suit as she manages to kneel, finally lucid again.

Maes makes a soft, stunned noise.

Jester interjects, his tone turning angry.

Rosetta's voice is dull.

Her tail thumps around until she bumps into the "ghost", the figure folding two of its paws in a surprised gesture.

Maes tenses, feeling firm and shaking in the proxy's grip.

Synna makes a snapping sound on the other end of the line.

Jester reaches out a hand, the ghost sniffing it.

Jester manages to scritch under its chin, getting a nasty, unsettling purr and a multi-eyed slow blink in response.

The ghost moves suddenly, multiple sets of hands grabbing at Jester's suit-

-until the cookie treasures were stolen.

It was already making grabby hands at Jester, patting him down.

Maes shuffles uncomfortably as Jester takes a few of the beast's hands in his own, giving them a gentle squeeze.

The karacel doesn't look up, keeping his gaze straight ahead at the gore-splattered wall.

Chelsea's eye twitches as Matthias leaps in front of his gaze, a finger under his chin.

Chelsea's eye twitches again.

He huffs smoke in the karacel's face, Chelsea doing his best not to blink as his eyes burn.

His grin widens like a horrible mask as he whisks a photo out of his back pocket, shaking it wrong-side facing Chelsea.

He twirls it in his fingers, Chelsea's face paling as the image reveals itself.




[id:]Matthias, revealed to be a canine individual with a stitched face and jagged smile, sporting bicolor hair long hair and fresh, modern glasses. He holds out a photograph of a very familiar fiend- Charon's hair down loose, messy, and his eye markings visible.]

The karacel leaps out of his seat, stumbling as he tries to claw at the canine's eyes- only for Matthias to catch his emaciated arm, cackling.

His gravely voice cracks, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes before he can stop it.

His shoulders are shaking, breath coming out haggard.

He leans in, giggling between syllables.

Matthias throws the cat to the ground with zero hesitation, Chelsea falling flat on his back.

Matthias mock pouts.

He clasps his hands, snickering.

[id: A photograph of a much younger Charon and a rose-headed figure next to him lays on a corkboard, pins and twine connecting more photos out of frame. Blood lightly trickles from his mouth.
Text reads:
UNIVERSAL CONSTANTS
Episode 7: Sel(ves) Love]







...Something was wrong.





He didn't know what, or how-
-but something had gone terribly wrong.












Gone.











When Charon had come out of the locker room, Maes had just- gone.

The usual spot at the break room table where she would wait for him was empty- no sign of anyone having even sat in the chair.

It was just a tiny thing. A small change in routine that they'd had for what felt like both such a short period and a long one, something that most people wouldn't even think of.










She had waited for him every time.









Maybe she was running late. Maybe she just- fell behind in her own decontamination. Needed a breather. She had looked like shit coming out of there, something hollow about her expression even through the visor.




He had tried to comfort her on the way to the elevator, only to get a complete non-reaction in the process.





He told her they could catch up after cleanup and get some well-needed rest together.














He waits and he chair remains empty.






Stay or go. If she needed him back at her place, he was neglecting her there. If she was just delayed, he would be leaving her behind. Was she going to be okay navigating after that? She had stumbled as she walked back to the rehab center, body shaking despite her attempts to cover it up.








No amount of chest pain and staring at the chair makes his partner manifest.













....

























He chooses to go to the apartment.







The hallways are the same. Every bit of floor tile and carpet and pristine, well maintained surface haven't changed at all, but there's a lump in his throat that grows. Passerbys greet him, knowing him as the charming knight who visits the Director and makes her smile-












Maes' door lays in front of him.












As Charon reaches for the handle, the door swings open- no one there.











The apartment door is unlocked.

No response.








He steps inside, tail plates audibly shifting around.

One of the kitchenette's chairs had been thrown to the side, other furniture jostled and shoved out of place, the bathroom door flung open-









-and a lump made of all of the blankets and sheets on the bed, tightly curled and making indiscernible noises.
Black sludge bleeds through, leaving dark, blotted stains.

The lump curls up tighter.

[id: A person-sized lump under black-stained blankets, Charon looking down at it with a deeply distressed grimace.]

Tighter, a little noise of distress.

The dog makes his way over, patting the side of the bed.

Even then, she seems to untense just a bit.

Her words are muffled, but clearly very, very unhappy.

Fumbling, only for the cat to allow her snout to peek through.

Her voice cracks.

Charon sits himself on the side of the bed.

Maes sniffles, a little trace of black sludge still on her lip.

She flinches.

Maes curls up tight, hiding her snout again.

The blankets rustle, the movement catching Charon's eye. The dark stains on the sheets are especially prominent on the lower half of her body, freshly wet and smearing.

She makes an unpleasant whimper.

She audibly swallows, choking a little.

She pokes her face out again, this time all the way. What little can be seen of her hair is a mess, as if she'd been pulling it out.

The dog tries to scoot closer.

She pushes herself to untangle the blankets, looking more and more worse for wear the more she emerges from her hiding place. Fur torn out in clumps, hair a mess, self-induced oozing black wounds on her hips and thighs and stains all over her chest... 

She can't find the strength to cover up.

She pulls herself out entirely, holding out her arms weakly. 


He scoops the cat up carefully.

[Image Description: Charon scoops up an exhausted, injured and bloodstained Maes in his arms. His face has a number of scratches from the previous fight, his eye slightly visible through his glasses lens. In the background a number of square portals showing a night lit world filled with stars and clouds and a singular large mysterious tower slanted.]

She presses her face into his chest fluff.

Her nose twitches, ears perking despite the weakness.

Her eyes widen, looking more alert.

Her face goes right back into his chest fluff.
He starts walking, his metal steps lightly echoing through the halls.

Hello!

A new voice, distinctively a proxy from the somewhat uncanny sound...but none of the Rooks Maes knows.

She fluffs up, looking particularly awkward while naked and her fur all uneven.

Housekeeping, so to speak..

[id: a tall, curvy figure wearing a patchwork dress- a striped snake tail curls behind her, her posture curious yet polite.]

Maes flinches for a moment as a light blanket is tossed on her, Charon helping draping it over her body.

I'll have one of the others bring you something comfortable.

Mm.. One moment then.

The proxy zooms off, a gust of wind blowing behind her.

The dog finally arrives at a couch and table setup, laying the cat down gently.

She reaches out a hand.

Charon lightly grasps on, only for Maes to tug on his arm, gesturing for him to kneel.
He follows, ever-ready to take commands.

As soon as he's close, she leans in, giving him a gentle, shy kiss on the forehead.

The corner of her mouth twinges into a subtle smile.

[id: charon leaning over maes, nestling his muzzle into her hair to give her a tender forehead kiss. both of them are shyly smiling, a moment just for them in a surreal, dream-like library.]

The dog returns the gesture, muzzle pushing through messy hair as he sits up just enough to reach.
Maes purrs as she leans in closer, whispering right into his ear.

The distance between them feels smaller and smaller.

She gestures to the somewhat stained blanket around her legs.

Flor makes their way inside, a pack of canned drinks in one hand and a medical kit in the other.

Maes can't help but blush, looking...embarrassed as the proxy enters the room.

The proxy slides her a can, nicely refrigerated.

She can't help but smile, still hesitating before undoing the blaanket covering.
Her thighs are still scratched up  badly, half of the wounds still oozing...the other, beginning to scab already.

The proxy hands the dog a few warm towels.

The dog carefully gets to work on wiping away any remnant slime, Flor prepping the disinfectant.
Maes keeps her expression even, but the shame breaks through- one more unfamiliarity to this.

She sighs, allowing herself to slump back on the couch.

She can't help but smile again, tiny but warm.

Flor gets into position.

She trails off, her voice unpleasantly small.

The proxy starts applying the disinfectant with care, watching her face for any wincing or gritted teeth-



-a slight tensing, but no other reaction.

She keeps her thighs still still, just leaning back and letting them work.

The blush immediately hits, the cat unable to shrink into the couch and get treated at the same time.

The proxy moves on to bandaging things up, the wounds properly clean.

Her smile returns.

She reaches out to pat his head.

He positions himself in reach.

She scratches behind his ears, letting out a warm sigh.

Maes kneads the blanket gently with her claws, taking inn the new environment with more than a little shyness. Everything felt entirely different, from the sense of fresh air just outside a window- an actual window, with scents she'd never even imagined properly, to the feeling of the old, well-loved quilt covering her lower half.

Her shyness returns, Maes' tailtip nervously twitching visible even under the blanket.

Maes reaches out her hand, her claws looking oddly delicate.

The proxy latches on, their own skin somewhere between artificially smooth and a bizarre softness, fitting for how careful their touch is.

Blush covers Maes' face, the cat coughing.

Flor leans in, nuzzling against their partner's cheek. Maes returns it readily, tracing her claws up the proxy's arm.

She takes a deep breath before massaging a claw into their collarbone.

Against their neck now.

The proxy shivers at that, clearly loving the pressure point.

Down their chest, then along their side- feeling each curve with a pleased purr.

With more than a little hesitation, she moves her other hand lower.

Flor is completely smooth and featureless- their null patch the same material as their hands, including the lovely soft feeling.

She presses her claws down against the flat surface, rubbing softly with the blunt sides to avoid scratching.

A little harder, still avoiding her clawtips.

She leans in, nuzzling the proxy's neck.

She pauses before pulling her hand away, taking Flor's and bringing it underneath the quilt- and between her own legs.

There was a slight bulge in Maes' pajamas- the cat slowly pulling them down just enough to let the same black tendril Kettle had worked with unfurl out.

Maes makes large, exaggerated air quotes.

She lets out a long sigh, bumping her face againt the proxy's.

She moves the proxy's hand back and forth, allowing them to feel her up.

The proxy follows along, fingers occasionally tracing her on the verge of grasping.

She sinks into the pillows, letting out a gentle noise as she allows herself to unwind.

Her free hand wanders back to Flor's thigh.

She shakes her head.

Without much time to really process, the dog descends from the ceiling like a bat, door following suit shortly to reveal Mar and Kettle carrying a full feast.

Maes startles, accidentally rubbing against Flor's hand in the process and making a gargled whine.

[id: charon posing dramatically with his cape, flor, kettle and mar standing at the ready to help set up trays and bowls to give maes her feast. everyone looks very fancy and poised to serve her, a shot straight out of a romance novel.]

Maes tries very hard not to look conspicuous, her dick still clearly out as she coughed.

The dog seemingly hasn't noticed- or at least, is polite enough to not call attention to it.

Crossing her legs.

Charon smiles, small and warm.

Mar makes a silly little rattle as she assembles the setup, Flor scooting back oonto the corner of the bed to make room.

Maes gave Mar an appreciative smile, still visibly anxious over being walked in on.

The large proxy finishes setting up the cat's dinner.

Maes gets herself settled in, not hesitating to grab her utensils and take a large bite- all of the shyness she had gone, the familiar dish a welcome treat.

Flor positions to lean on her shoulder and keep her company.

Another huge bite, licking sauce off her lips.

The rabbity construct nuzzles her arm.

Mar chimes in.

She pauses her feast, thinking.

The dog sits himself down at a nearby desk to work on his own plate.

She takes a hearty bite of her meal, clearly enthused at the thought.

Kettle lets out a grumpy noise.

Maes can't help but smile, too caught up in enjoying the banter and her meal to interject.

I...am very lucky, I think...

Dinner was, as always- perfect.
Even with her lack of experience with cooked meals, Maes could tell that even just over the months they'd started this relationship, he had been improving more and more. Custom fitting the menu to her tastes, noting down her reactions in his head. He didn't even have to tell her he was doing it, she could taste it every time.

The rooks served her well, observing any details, any signs of discomfort and tending to them- massaging her, asking about her wounds, any pain, any worry.

It was so easy to relax into it, to feel her partners serve her.

To be watched in a way that mattered, one that was comfortable and warm. They expected nothing in return, her very presence all they could ask for. She wondered if this was definable as worship in some senses, to be tended to so carefully- but she also knew how she would define it.

It was safety.
The ability to trust, something she'd never had before.


...enough to allow herself extremes.

Utter indulgence.

After all-
They had done so much work for her, and even with a lack of expectations from her...
They deserved rewards, too.




Negotiations were quick- maybe too quick, but after enough of the casual touching, the flirting, everything, it was so easy to get caught up in it.







Maes digs her claws into the sheets, having to grit her teeth to keep from getting loud- the fiend between her legs doing everything he could to try to break that concentration.

His submissive nature is on full display, tail wagging in excitement and breath heavy with excitement, completely betraying the dog's calm knight persona. Any semblance of politeness or decorum was gone entirely, Charon's enthusiasm taking over any attempt at it.

A soft growl escapes her.

Expectations on her terms, and no one else's. That growl is enough to get him to ramp things up, his fangs extending and grazing her.

Maes had already filled most of his mouth at this point, still raring to go despite the pile of proxies on the floor.

The dog latches onto her legs tight, trying to get the best stability he can.

Kettle makes a snarky little chirp, sitting on the heap of others who'd already taken their turns.


If he doesn't I'll go for round two.

She grabs the back of his head, more warning him than any trying to cause any actual pain.

He relaxes his approach, letting her lead him as she rhythmically works over his mouth.

There's another casual chirp from the proxy as she sneaks over to the pillows next to Maes and flops, her voice somewhat distorted after all of the slime still on her lips.


You're really not tired yet?

[id: maes, kettle, and charon on the bed together, charon's head deep between maes' legs as he sucks her off. kettle's watching eagerly, egging maes on to keep getting rougher. maes herself grabs his hair and pushes him in closer, teeth gritted and focused on the sensation of it.]

Kettle cackles at that, clearly ecstatic over how fast things are moving.

Why wouldn't she be? Maes feels the same, everything feeling more like a culmination versus rushing in too quick.

Already becoming a resident.

You definitely won't have to if this one tries a bit harder.


Kettle lets out another quick chirp before reaching over and casually slapping Charon's ass, the dog immediately picking up speed as he whines.

The dog gives her an affirmative pat on her leg just below the bandages, confirming as much.

The proxy claps her hands before replying with a gleeful shriek.


Pretty sure he likes being kicked and stepped on.

The dog makes a muffled noise at Kettle, only getting a smug little hiss in response.


Leggings let him lean into the whole workplace thing.
He likes pawpads too.

The dog pulls back to finally respond properly, taking a moment to breathe.

She shoves her dick back in his mouth, Charon lightly biting on it in a playful defiance. The slime conforms, somewhere between slicing into gelatin and denting it.

Instantly slammed into his mouth hard, hitting the back of his throat this time.

The dog takes the opportunity to play into Kettle's advice and feeling up the cat's leg- his breathing getting heavier even while playing careful around her dressings.

She wastes no time squeezing his head between them, locking him in place with a slight wince.

She knows she's pushing it.

But the sound of his voice keeps her testing the boundary, finding where her injured body draws the line.

Charon still does his best to feel her up, having to clumsily get any touch he possibly can out of his limited position. She can feel his mouth leaking out any excess dripping, unable to contain all of it.

Even with the tight squeeze, Charon starts to really feel it out with his tongue, almost like... kissing.

She matched his motions, the slime's tentacle-like nature becoming more and more obvious.


His whole body relaxes, blissed out and content, happy to serve his purpose in this moment.

Something brushes between his legs- a moment passing before he recognizes it as her tail.

He can't help but shiver at that, a diabolical smile spreading across Maes' face.

It takes him a moment, a surprised noise sneaking out of him.

The proxy doesn't miss a beat, getting the dog's pants down in no time.

She brushes up against him again, this time Charon directly feeling the velvety skin hidden within the tail tip graze him.


His legs shake, Maes able to feel him dripping from even the slight touch.

Gently cupping him, almost hand-like in a mitten-esque way, able to investigate and rub him with far more finesse than one would expect looking at the tail's exterior.

Charon makes a noise of agreement, barely intelligible through the mess in his mouth. It's different than grinding, Maes getting lost for a moment in how his shapes feel as she starts fully stroking him.

Shoving down his throat, just enough room for him to still breathe.

Charon plays up thinking on it, only to get a hard squeeze as punishment for his teasing- especially working over the tip, He pushes directly into it, spreading the mess inside her tail almost desperately.

A resigned noise between her legs.

Kettle leans onto the cat's shoulder with a little chitter.


He's just too polite to ask.

A whisper in her ear.


He loves it when you play mean.

She grabs his hair and pulled, only to shove deep into his throat.

That gets a noise out of him immediately, followed by an audible gag.

Another little whisper.


He wishes you'd do this to him at work some days.

She squeezes him hard with her tail, not giving him a moment's notice.

The proxy nips at the cat's ear, her own heavy breath betraying that even now, the rooks all shared Charon's sensations between them.

She returns the nip, the proxy's mouth tantalizingly close to hers. Kettle attempts to press muzzles, her own turn to whine. Maes doesn't pull away, a soft laugh escaping her.

[id: kettle leaning in, her muzzle very close to maes' cheek . maes braces for impact, clearly amused and having a wonderful time of it.]

A little playful bump of noses.

The ghost lets out a tiny noise of confirmation, followed by another whine.

The proxy cups the cat's face and chitters.


If you've been thinking about kissing him, you better give me one too.

She takes a deep breath.

She moves in for a kiss-




-complete with full tongue.

The proxy is surprisingly slow and careful, perhaps more than just her involved in the process. Maes was far more sloppy, almost like she didn't know how to match that.

The ghost notices and takes lead, helping her navigate. Her hands latches on carefully to the cat's own, small quirks in her motions cycling between those of the others.

Broth's nervous touches, Mar's passionate embrace, Kettle's playful tickling, Flor's careful examination...

Charon's loyal squeeze, reassuring her that none of them were going anywhere.


A truly collaborative effort.

She slowly eases into her partners' pace, learning to be more gentle in real time.

There's a distinct bite on the tongue that's Charon's. Flor's specific coiling of fingers around hers, finding the right spots to touch.

She's having difficulty getting words out, practically melting into the touch.

The ghost feels along her neck and shoulders, all the way down her back.


In this realm we all exist at the same time.. complete.

Kettle leans against her and into the kiss, running her hands over any sore spot she had told Charon about.


Judgment out there is all of us in harmony.. in here I'm all of them. Pieces, masks, characters..

A little whine, her voice dazed from all the stimulation.


Kettle hasn't tired out because right now.. I think I'm her the most.


She tries to climb on top, Maes pushing her gently down-

She manages to pull out of his throat, leaving him gasping and hacking up what remained after swallowing. He flops over on his side, taking a moment to rest and recover.


I don't know which one of us is more real right now but...

Mm?


She brushes her hips against the ghost's, making a little wince as her thighs make contact.

A-ah!


The ghost repositions to get some weight off of her, ears flopping back as Maes tucks herself back in. There's a look of guilt on both of their faces, the mood shifting quickly from intensely passionate to nervous- everything having to end so suddenly.


Sorry..

You want to go all the way but it hurts too much.


Maes sighs, looking even more frustrated now.

You'd be able to play things out as another you while Maes Artag gets to rest.


The karacel's ear twitches, snapping her out of her rumination if only for the moment.

A proxy, at least in our case specifically. None of us are any less Charon Judgment


Maes folds her hands, sinking into the bed.

Mmhmm..

It's awkward as the blankets are ruffled, put back into proper place- the mess wiped up as much as Kettle and Maes can with their bodies weak, sheets used as rags tossed to the side for later.

After it's said and done, Kettle flops over to the side for Maes to pull her in close, the cat reaching her spare arm around for Charon.

The dog scoots toward her touch, snuggling up under her arm. The ghost resting on the other side is very still, almost like a toy.

The dog finally speaks up, his body having been practically knocked out during cleanup.

She rolls over, leaning in.

[id: maes and charon leaning in for a careful, goodnight kiss- both of them covered in messy hair and ruffled fur.]

Maes moves in for another kiss, far gentler this time. Charon returns it with just as much softness, letting her taste the remaining slime on his lip before she reaches up to wipe it clean.

She rests her head against his chest, closing her eyes.